krik? krak!

Lately, I've been hungry for short story collections, perhaps because the story is so compact and highly teachable. You can dip in and out in a day, if you need a brief bridge, or you can circle around it for a week, pulling apart all the delicious elements, take a moment to deeply admire the craft.

I first read Krik? Krak! by Edwidge Danticat when I was an undergraduate. This time, in a whole new life-place, I found myself leaning into the ticking of the pages, thinking "Which one would I teach if I had to choose?" And then, realizing: Which one wouldn't I teach?

(A little context: I read this book at a hotel, where we were staying, because our grinder pump had thrown in the metaphorical towel, and we could not use water in our house. I am fully aware of the juxtapositions of my experience reading this book and the experiences of the characters: the privilege of reading by a hotel's fire [my children and husband had already fallen asleep in the room, so I was in the lobby], the snowstorm brewing outside. Perhaps these things heightened an awareness, but I suspect it was just the incredible power of Danticat's storytelling that kept me rooted to that couch until the last story was read. An awareness of the reader's life situation compared to that of the protagonist's is always compelling in a discussion though: what do we learn and how do we learn it? Who is telling the stories we are learning from?)

Reading Danticat has always been a huge pleasure and unfortunately, particularly after Trump's recent comment, is even more relevant and important to read with students. Danticat's stories are steeped in her Haitian upbringing, each story fantastic in its representation of cultural experience. Danticat's themes are linked deeply to place, to mother-daughter relationships, to identity and diaspora.

Storytelling and modes of telling have been humming in the back of my mind as I approach all things in teaching as of late, so of course a collection whose title is an invitation to storytelling has nestled into my hands this snowy weekend.

These stories all require at least some level of historical and cultural preparation. All of the stories could be followed up with some kind of reflection on how fear plays a role within the story, what motivates each character, and if you have the chance to read all of the stories with your class, how they are linked. (One could do a family tree at some point, complete with historical events from the stories.)

Equally compelling is the author's own biography. Edwidge Danticat was born in Haiti in 1969 and moved to the United States when she was twelve. This book was a finalist for the National Book Award, and she's become a powerful voice in the literary community.

A few notes on each story:

(1) "Children of the Sea": After a decade and a half since my first reading, this is the story I remember the most. This particular story is told from the point of view of lovers who have separated for their safety: one on a boat in hopes of rescue at sea, the other staying in Haiti. They write these letters to each other, with the suspicion none will ever reach the other, but these letters becomes their centerpoint of hope. With this story, one could discuss what the form does for the story, their reactions to plot elements. In the end, the male on the boat is told to put his notebook into the ocean in a last ditch effort at taking on more water: what does it mean when he puts his words into the sea? This, as with all the stories in the collection, could use a historical context, which could lead to teaching critical theory (a historical lens, a feminist lens, a cultural lens, an economic lens). It might be interesting to link this story to Beloved (and others in the collection, actually): in this case, there is a element with a baby that is incredibly heart-wrenching, and in other stories, there are ways events can return to haunt characters as ghosts.

(2) "Nineteen Thirty-Seven": This is my favorite of the collection, partly because I love imagining these women being what they are accused of being: powerful beings with wings of fire, the ability to remove their skin so they can fly. In truth, the story is about a daughter who visits her mother in prison who is arrested for witchcraft, making this a good story to link to something like The Crucible. One could also look at other pieces in which a Madonna statue plays an important role. (This photograph from Hurricane Sandy has always moved me.) (Note: I'm going to re-read Susan Power's Roofwalker next, as I think there's a really good story in that one that could be connected to this.) I wrote a poem after reading about this story in the news, which might also be an interesting tie to the story. Unfortunately, it's not hard to find modern news articles about witch-burnings.

(3) "A Wall of Fire Rising": This is another one that would make a fantastic story to teach--so many layers and nuance. Here we follow a small family in Haiti who are struggling: the father tries to find work and it's hand-to-mouth, the mother sells spices in the market, and there is so much hope for the son, who has gotten himself a major role in the school play and is at work memorizing his lines. The father, who admits the only thing he remembers about his own father is that he didn't want his life to be like his, does this extraordinary thing at the end of the story, this thing that is rich with symbolism and the son, in shock, begins reciting his lines--this boy, stunned, in the moment of passing the torch. It would be interesting to take a look at the history of rebellious leaders, particularly those in Haiti, and how they are immortalized, ask the students how that plays out in the family and in the story. The relationship or attitude of the father softens towards the mother--talk about why. And what of this momentous act? Why does the father do what he does? Why does the boy react as he does?

(4) "Night Women": This one is a quick story, but certainly impactful, and tells the story of a mother who earns her money having sex with men, though that job is never named. She has a son, and she tells her son one thing about his father, and tells her son these people who visit at night are angels of a kind.

(5) "Between the Pool and the Gardenias": This is the other story one could link to Beloved--or to grief and rituals of burial. (Actually, this story would pair well with a book my press published called Tremolo, which follows the grief cycle of pregnancy loss through a kind of return to earth and musical / sonic patterns.) The protagonist in this story cannot carry a baby to term, and she finds a baby in the street. This story, too, does not tell the reader flat out what is truly happening; there's a veil in which you slowly realize what is wrong with the baby Rose and you have to suss out what is happening at the close of the story. Here students could track language and nuance to see just how Danticat lets the reader in on the terrible secret.

(6) "The Missing Peace": This story has us accompany what I assume to be an American protagonist--one whose mother lived in Haiti, but she escaped somehow--and a young girl who lost her mother at birth. The woman has come to find evidence of her own mother's death, and the girl acts as a guide; the two go out after curfew and Lamort--this is the girl's name--must navigate the very adult situation in the streets. There is mention of journalists in this story, which would invite an excellent discussion on voyeurism into other cultures, coverage of tragic events, lenses in which we get to see experience, how we know what is true and what is biased in some way. Naming is heavily symbolic in this piece as well; the woman tells Lamort (French for "death") she ought to have been given her mother's name when she was born, but the name Lamort is a kind of punishment. There's also a piece of purple cloth the woman is hand sewing, and a link to Alice Walker's "Everyday Use" could be interesting as well.

(7) "Seeing Things Simply": There are a lot of excellent juxtapositions in this story: the brutality of a cock fight with the beauty of fine art; the privilege of the artist who travels to Paris on a whim with the poverty of her subject. Certainly an excellent story to discuss the gaze, which can be linked to all kinds of film analysis and fine art: how are we looking at the subject? This is a critical point of discussion for any literature class. Who are we looking at and how is it framed, how are we meant to look and what devices are being used to influence us to look in this way?

(8) "New York Day Women": This story employs multiple voices, and I love the way the mother's voice comes out in this piece. There's a nice lesson plan on this one, and one could talk about the differences between this and "Night Women."

(9) "Caroline's Wedding": Here we have a Haitian family in New York City, and the protagonist, Grace (another one in which discussing names will be important) is applying for her passport after being granted American citizenship. There's a line in the book: "We had all paid dearly for this piece of paper, this final assurance that I belonged in the club. It had cost my parent's marriage, my mother's spirit, my sister's arm." A great point of discussion: what does she mean by this? How did it play out in the book? The sister, Caroline, is engaged to be married, and the sisters are different enough that a compare / contrast lesson could occur, or, even better, a kind of reader's theatre where two brave students take on the voices of the characters and are interviewed by the students: Why did you do this? How do you think about that? (I did this with a theatre class I taught at a gifted & talented summer camp, and it was incredibly fun. It takes a good class dynamic to pull off, I think.) There's an indie film adaptation, which I'd love to find a way to see.

Bonus material work checking out:

- Danticat's essays in The New Yorker
- TED talk: Stories about Haiti
- Column in The Atlantic: By Heart 

Drop a note if you have taught or ever teach any of these stories or Danticat or any Haitian literature! I'd love to hear how those go.